


i wish every time he touched me left a mark

by taekai



Category: EXO (Band), SHINee
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, PWP, Rimming, lapslock, light comeplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 08:10:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7610359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taekai/pseuds/taekai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>even when breathless and greedy for friction, something is graceful about the way taemin moves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i wish every time he touched me left a mark

**Author's Note:**

> ridiculously lengthy pwp that i was finally convinced to crosspost to ao3, and i'm refraining from editing it to death before doing so! go me. will i ever finish a fic that isn't just shameless smut?? who knows, but s/o to kelly, maha and miyabi for all the encouragement i received while writing this.
> 
> if the thought of neither jongin nor taemin having a daddy kink hurts your feelings you should close this tab, lmao.

taemin brings his hips down, once, twice, the second time more firm than the first, and jongin's exhale turns sharp against taemin's mouth -- they're not kissing as much as they're simply sharing breath, taemin's bottom lip fitted against the seam of jongin's lips, and jongin's hands drift from the back of taemin's neck to his face, fingertips on the hinges of his jaw, thumbs settling underneath it.

even when breathless and greedy for friction, something is graceful about the way taemin moves, how his weight shifts when he tilts his hips and rocks them forward. his hands fumble to slip under jongin's shirt and crawl up his abdomen, and jongin reclines just enough with taemin straddling him to straighten; his muscles tighten and then relax beneath the warmth of taemin's palms as he settles again, less slumped against the arm of the sofa. his lips part and he sucks taemin's soft bottom lip into his mouth, and a noise that's half a moan gets stuck in taemin's throat; he dips his head to seek the wet heat of jongin's mouth with his own again the moment he lets go, and he kisses him like he's been starving for it. jongin reciprocates, giving him what he's asking for by leaning in and properly claiming taemin's mouth, all tongue and teeth.

taemin pants into the kiss, grinding almost uninhibited into the warmth and sturdiness of jongin's body, and jongin in turn rolls his hips up to chase the sensation, _good_  but too dulled by layers of denim. just this, taemin's body pressed against his own, the all too familiar taste and scent and heat and shape of him, it gets jongin so aroused he's almost heady with it. he feels short of breath and maybe it's from the kiss, but there's an ever-present warmth in his chest, pressing against his lungs, all that taemin makes him feel shaking from within the cage of his ribs all the way through his bones. his hands shift downwards, brushing over taemin's neck, and he breaks the kiss to nose lightly along taemin's cheek, mouthing where his thumb was pressed -- more of taemin's skin is offered to him with a quick jerk of his head, and jongin puts his lips to it, just below his ear, then light and fleeting down the length of his throat as he leans in to really close his mouth over it.

taemin's hands come up to curl at his shoulders, fingertips pressing into his shoulder blades when jongin sucks skin between his teeth. he lets out a heavy breath, and more of his weight is leant into jongin as though it has him teetering off balance. it stills the movement of his hips, knees slipping further apart on the couch's faux leather, and jongin grabs a hold of his waist to steady him. his legs dig into jongin's, thighs straining where they bracket jongin's own, and taemin adjusts with an unsteady scoot back and a grind forward, his crotch shoved with too-sudden force against the front of jongin's jeans -- it pulls a choked noise from jongin, whose response is to suck harder at his neck, mouth fumbling to find a new spot below the first.

he wants, so badly, to mark it. he could leave the pale expanse of skin red and tender and bruised to touch later, for taemin to admire in his bathroom mirror in the morning and _remember_. he could and knows very well he shouldn't, nowhere shirts won't cover it up, so he slaps the temptation away -- but the breathy moan taemin lets out when he softly bites down, then pulls away with a slow, open-mouthed kiss partially makes up for his frustration with it.

"get rid of this," taemin says as he fists his hand in the front of jongin's shirt to tug uselessly, entirely unhelpful. he's failing to quite catch his breath, his voice uneven and a little hoarse, and the sound of it makes jongin's mouth go dry. he hooks an arm around taemin and pushes himself upright, and taemin hangs onto him for a moment before he catches on, sliding off his lap to sit back while jongin reaches to grab the back of his shirt and swiftly pull it over his head.

his fingers itch to keep touching, so he moves in to press close to taemin again, no more inclined to wait to be close -- _closer_  -- than taemin just came off as being.

"better?" he asks, half-distracted, and the attempt to make fun of taemin's impatience is meant to be tame enough to slide without a response he doesn't really need. his mouth is back on the older's before he can begin to answer either way, and taemin either decides not to try or had no intention to, just slips his fingers through jongin's tousled hair. they trail down his slightly damp neck and his tongue dips between jongin's lips in little licks that urge jongin to lean in further, angling his head to deepen the kiss. his hands come to rest on taemin's hips, thumbing at skin right above his jeans before they're brought lower to firmly grab at taemin's ass.

"still too much clothing," is what taemin mumbles then, muffled, and when jongin's jean-clad thigh is nudged up between his legs he holds off pressing himself into it to let jongin push him down on his back. taemin struggles to pull his shirt up, lifting himself off the couch as much as he's able with jongin on top of him, and when it gets stuck just above his ribs jongin helps him out with tugging it all the way off. taemin's head pops free of the collar, and he begins to slip his arms out as well, but jongin is quick to reach up and grab onto them before he can get it past his elbows. taemin's wrists are thin enough that he can gather them both in the grasp of one hand, leaving the other free to trail down taemin's bare chest.

taemin is so lithe, all skin and bone and muscle -- sometimes stress eats away at him and after rough weeks jongin can count his ribs, see the outline of his sternum each time he stretches, but right now his edges are softer under jongin's hands. he's never any less beautiful, never fails to steal jongin's goddamn breath doing even the simplest, most mundane things, but he appreciates the extra bit of weight hugging taemin's bones like he appreciates the way taemin's smile grows brighter around him as soon as they can make time together, just for him, _because_  of him, warming and honest.

"jongin," taemin starts, quiet confusion, but jongin turns the small would-be complaint into a whine by pinching one of his nipples, rolling it slowly between his thumb and forefinger. taemin's body jerks slightly, wrists twisting in jongin's hold before going still again, and jongin's mouth quirks.

"always so sensitive," he says, his tone somewhere between fond and teasing, and taemin's cheeks prickle with heat despite the countless times jongin has pointed it out and gently embarrassed him about it -- and will continue to. jongin releases his wrists, and though he has to resist the impulse to do so, taemin doesn't reach to touch him; the shirt is a mostly ineffective restraint he could easily rid himself of, but jongin seemed to have wanted his arms to stay above his head, hands out of the way, so he still doesn't pull them free.

that is, until jongin sits up to unzip his jeans, and taemin decides to forget about staying put.

"i want you in my mouth," he says, before jongin can push him back down on the couch, and he's already leaning forward to go for the waistband of jongin's boxer briefs. jongin watches taemin while shoving his jeans mostly out of the way, then shifts, unfolding one leg to get more comfortable.

"yeah? c'mere," is what jongin responds with, and taemin scoots closer, undoing the button on his own pants as he goes to single-handedly try to work them down his thighs. he wriggles halfway out of them before it proves too difficult to get them off, so for the moment he ends up leaving the denim bunched up above his knees -- it's an ignorable annoyance when he's got jongin, hard enough that his cock is straining against the fabric of his underwear, watching him as expectantly as he is. he can cup him easily through the thin layer of cotton, run his palm along the shape of his cock, and despite an attempt to keep his eyes fixed on jongin's crotch while he moves to settle in front of him, his attention only on the easy task of getting jongin's dick out, it's impossible for taemin not to notice and _feel_  jongin's gaze on him. he brushes his hair back and away from his face, and when his fingers wrap around jongin's cock, his other hand tugging the elastic lower on jongin's hips, taemin has to lick his lips.

he draws his fingers lightly up the length of it, and feeling taemin's breath against the sensitive head has jongin suppressing a shiver. taemin lifts his eyes, then, to briefly meet jongin's as his tongue slips out to lap at it, tiny kitten-licks getting the tip wet, and jongin exhales heavily, half because of the sight alone. taemin's short fingers curl tighter around his shaft, giving it a full proper stroke, then he dips his head to run the flat of his tongue over the skin, paying particular attention to the vein he can feel the outline of on the underside of it.

a stubborn few hairs stick to the wetness on taemin's lips, and he has to pause to shake them away with a jerk of his head. jongin drops his arm from the back of the couch to help, carefully nudging the strands away from taemin's mouth with a knuckle and tucking them back behind his ear. taemin wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand half-heartedly, then ducks back down to keep licking at jongin's cock, just below the crown and then across it, and the wet tip of his tongue just barely dipping into the slit makes jongin's breath catch and there's a twitch to his thigh where taemin's forearm is resting. he lets his hand settle on the back of taemin's head, and taemin leans a little bit into the touch of his palm before finally parting his pretty plump lips to take him into his mouth.

his lips slip over the ridge of the head and taemin gives it a light suck, then opens his mouth wider to take the first couple inches inside. jongin's inhale comes quicker than normal, and he manages to keep his hips still though the urge to thrust into that amazing wet heat definitely is there -- taemin could take it, really enjoys that, even, but he seems happy to just work jongin with his mouth right now as opposed to having jongin fuck his face.

"really taking your time, aren't you?" jongin's fingers thread through the blonde strands, and he runs the tips of them along taemin's hairline, gathering a proper fistful of his hair in his grasp without tugging. taemin slides down a little further on his cock, pink lips stretching as he sucks him deeper, and he makes a tiny wet and breathless noise before he wraps them tight around it and hollows his cheeks -- it's enough for jongin's breathing to speed up noticeably, and initially he almost pulls a little too hard at taemin's hair when a sudden pause ends up lasting several seconds. it should've perhaps been something like a warning, though jongin only realizes as much in retrospect -- taemin's teeth graze the skin of his cock, and when jongin hisses and untangles his hand from taemin's hair to lightly hit the top of his head, taemin ends up gagging from trying not to laugh around a mouthful of cock.

"brat," jongin says, and taemin hums innocently, swallowing to will down his gag reflex. "do it properly."

taemin’s eyes flick up, though he returns to his duty of sucking jongin off quickly enough, going down, down, until he's got nearly all of jongin in his mouth; his lips stay tight and slick around the shaft when he pulls back, and the intensity jongin watches him with would’ve made even more color rise to taemin’s face if he wasn’t avoiding eye-contact with him for this very reason. there's nothing about the shape or taste or weight of jongin's cock on his tongue that isn't familiar to taemin, and he knows how much of it he can fit into his mouth before it requires a certain amount of caution for him not to choke -- jongin’s hips stutter, lifting off the couch with a firm jerk, and involuntary or on purpose taemin still takes it without gagging, just lets his jaw go slack and braces against the sharp thrust with a kind of ease that only comes with practice. jongin’s eyes flutter shut above him and he curses breathily, and it seems to encourage taemin because he puts his palms to jongin’s thighs and begins to really bob his head, lips sliding wetly over jongin’s cock, sucking and working his tongue almost eagerly.

"you can take all of me, come on," jongin urges, and there’s a rough quality to his voice that sends a jolt of arousal straight to taemin’s own dick, just as hard, if not more so, than he’d been a few minutes ago. taemin exhales through his nose, slows down slightly, then opens wider -- his teeth kept carefully out of the way this time -- and slides all the way down on jongin’s cock, pausing for a second once his lips are hugging the base of it. the thick head bumps unceremoniously against the back of his throat, threatening to make him gag, but jongin has enough self-control to remain almost entirely still while he gets used to the discomfort that barely causes him trouble anymore.

"that's it, babe," jongin says, his tone one it pleases taemin to hear so much that he’d probably do anything jongin asked him to, as long as it meant praise. "good boy."

he feels the catch and tug of jongin's fingers in his hair, his hold too tight for taemin to be able to pull off his cock if he were to try, so taemin breathes through his nose and swallows around it to relax and suppress his gag reflex again. his throat spasms uncomfortably, causing him to wince a bit and squeeze his watering eyes shut, but the twinge of pride he gets to feel when this manages to pull a shaky moan from jongin makes it very much worth it.

"look at me," jongin says, breathless, and taemin lifts his gaze obediently to stare up at jongin through his eyelashes, lips reddened and stretched around the thick base of jongin's cock, his face flushed. jongin runs the pad of his thumb across taemin’s bottom lip, shining wet with spit, and it quivers at the touch. "yeah, just like that. fuck, you're so gorgeous with your lips wrapped around my cock."

taemin moans quietly around jongin in response, brows knitting as he tentatively tongues the underside of his cock, not all that easy with his mouth so full -- his jaw is beginning to hurt from having to keep it open too wide for a tad too long, so taemin is fighting the nagging urge to pull off just to relieve the ache. he gags once he finally lets jongin’s cock slide out of his mouth, drawing a breath that’s almost a gasp once it slips free, and his hand momentarily replaces his lips around the shaft as he blinks hard to get rid of the tears blurring his eyesight.

a drop of precome is forming at the tip of jongin’s cock, and taemin lowers his head again to lap it up as soon as he notices.

“sucking cock turns you on so much,” jongin says, lifting the leg outstretched on the couch just enough to press it up between taemin’s slim thighs. taemin half-whines, half-moans, suddenly clumsy while trying to gather some of the spit back into his mouth that's trickling down jongin’s length, licking it up before it can drip onto the sofa, and it pops out messily from between his lips when jongin really puts pressure against the bulge in his underwear.

“jongin,” taemin’s voice is a proper whine this time, embarrassed, but he doesn’t deny it -- and it’d be hard to even convincingly try when he’s more or less rubbing himself against jongin now, a slow rocking motion downwards, all while he licks sloppily at jongin's cock between quiet little pants and places open-mouthed kisses to the head of it, sucking with a messy enthusiasm that turns jongin’s breath harsh and makes him outright groan.

"fuck," he curses, jaw tight, and when taemin’s fingers crawl along his inner thigh and he fumbles to take his balls in his hand, jongin swallows thickly and shakes his head.

"alright, you've got to stop, baby, _baby_ , you're gonna make me come," he pushes taemin off his cock, and taemin ducks his head down to wipe spit from his chin with his palm, then lifts the other to rub at his still slightly wet eyes. jongin is still breathing hard, but he cups taemin's jaw in his hand anyway to tip his face back up so he can kiss him. he gently swipes his fingertip over taemin’s lower eyelid, clearing the wetness he didn’t get himself from his eyelashes, and taemin blinks slowly, shoulders dropping.

“not done with you yet.” jongin’s lips brush against taemin’s cheek, and taemin leans into him, hands grabbing at his tan arms, fingers too short to really get a proper hold around jongin’s biceps. “i’d hope not,” taemin says; there’s a twitch to his curving mouth, though the smile shows just as much in his eyes. he shifts his weight from one knee to the other to maintain his balance with his jeans still stuck stupidly around his legs, and jongin’s hands drop to the slight dip of his waist, his narrow hips, guiding him back into a sit before hooking his fingers in the waistband of taemin’s briefs.

“don’t get smart with me,” jongin murmurs, giving a slight shake of his head, brow quirking, and taemin’s grin really only widens, catching his bottom lip between his teeth as he lifts his legs to help jongin get his pants (finally) off.

“sorry, daddy,” he says, and he has to try hard not to sputter a laugh at the look on jongin’s face -- jongin stops pulling at taemin’s jeans, now in a heap around his ankles along with his underwear, to stare down at him incredulously, catching taemin’s sock-clad foot in his hand when he tries to lower his leg. “i swear, you’ll have to put my dick back in your mouth.”

“why, daddy?” taemin asks, mock wide-eyed, far too amused with himself for jongin’s liking. “taemin, shut up --”

“but _daddy_.”

“i really will throw you off the couch,” jongin warns, pulling the jeans over taemin’s foot and off, letting him slip the other out himself and bring his legs back down while jongin reaches to drop his last bit of clothing (save his socks) on the floor between the couch and the coffee table.

“sorry,” taemin clears his throat to stifle another laugh, shutting his mouth just long enough for jongin to think his threat was sufficient, that he’s done.

he barely gets to open it again before jongin smacks his thigh, making him really crack up and pull his legs towards his body, away from jongin, but he stops rather abruptly when jongin gives his bare ass a hard squeeze. instead he swallows, leaning back against the arm of the couch with a soft _thump_ , and jongin runs his palms down the outsides of his legs, then nudges them further apart with his arm.

sliding his hands back up along his inner thighs, he lets his eyes take in all of taemin’s naked skin, a sight that makes his pulse jump and cock damn near ache every time -- fair and perfectly smooth, and jongin would just like to put his hands and mouth all over it, touch every inch of him with the tips of his fingers and his lips and tongue; if it didn’t sound so dumb jongin would say he looked downright fucking edible. taemin notices him staring real quick, of course he does, and he averts his eyes, huffing a quiet breath.

“it’s like every time you see me naked is the first,” taemin blurts quietly, something of an attempt at distracting jongin because his cheeks feel embarrassingly warm and he’s sure it must show, but jongin doesn’t bother pretending he hasn’t been enjoying the view he currently has in front of him, just replies, plain and honest, “you’re so damn pretty.”

he lets his fingers curl behind taemin’s knees, then begins to lift them, and taemin turns pliant, folding easily at the waist. he replaces jongin’s hands with his own to keep his legs up once he lets go, and jongin touches the backs of his thighs, watching the way taemin’s grip tightens a little, how the rise and fall of his chest with each breath gets less steady -- taemin’s cock lays more than half-hard against his stomach, and jongin reaches in to take it in his hand, index finger swiping across the head before he wraps his fingers around it. taemin moans breathily, hips tilted towards jongin’s fist, but all he gets is a few firm strokes before jongin is letting go again, pulling a disappointed noise from taemin.

jongin places a kiss to his knee to make up for it, and taemin’s head rolls to the side so he can see what jongin is doing, something close to a pout on his face and a furrow to his brow that only softens when jongin drops his hand lower to run a finger over the skin just below taemin’s balls -- it always makes taemin squirm in anticipation, and jongin will never get sick of it, loves every little reaction he’s learned how to get out of taemin. he knows just how to touch to make him sigh and writhe and moan and _whimper_ , what has him chewing his lip red and what makes his knees shake, and he thinks he’d have to be kind of an idiot to not put this knowledge to use whenever and wherever he has an opportunity to. his thumb rubs slowly between taemin’s cheeks, teasing, and he feels taemin tighten up under his fingertip as his breath catches, a hitchy quiet inhale that jongin would’ve easily missed if he wasn’t listening for it.

"turn over for me," he says, “lie down on your stomach.”

taemin lets his hands drop so he can push himself upright and do as he’s told, setting his feet back down as he’s sitting up, and jongin moves to stand so he isn’t in the way when taemin shuffles a bit further down the couch, giving him enough room to lie down. he settles comfortably, pulling a cushion closer to put underneath his head and folding his arms on top of it to rest his cheek against, and jongin puts a hand on the back of his leg as he climbs to sit between his spread knees. taemin shivers.

jongin slides his hand over the curve of taemin’s ass, small but perky, and when both his thumbs dip between the cheeks to spread them taemin turns his face to bury it in the cushion, forehead pressed to his wrist.

jongin can barely wait to be inside him, but taemin’s thighs tense beneath jongin’s palms, soft yet muscular from so many hours spent in practice rooms and fuck, jongin wants to bury his face between them, spread the cheeks of his ass with his thumb and index finger and kiss and suck and lick, feel taemin's hole quiver around his tongue and his legs tremble and listen to his panting, his needy little moans. taemin turns his head again just enough to watch jongin over his shoulder, his spine a concave curve, and jongin meets his eyes as he leans down, nose nudging the top of his thigh.

“jongin,” taemin says, but he falls silent again immediately when he feels jongin’s hot breath between his cheeks, then the slippery heat of his tongue; he licks slowly right across taemin’s hole, causing taemin to make a small, high-pitched sound, but the second lick is light and fleeting, barely any pressure -- he proceeds to just teasingly trace the skin around it, working his tongue up and back down the cleft of taemin’s ass while purposely avoiding the one place taemin wants it the most, and he can still feel taemin tighten up each time part of his tongue just barely happens to touch his entrance. he keeps it up until he gets the skin from damp to nice and slick, and by then taemin has put his hand to his mouth, teeth digging tiny indents in one of his knuckles to help him stay quiet; jongin pulls back slightly, watching taemin twitch and relax, and when he leans back in and really lets his tongue dip to push against the tight circle of muscle, a firm lick without slipping it into him, taemin pants and _mewls_.

“i love you like this,” jongin’s lips curve into a grin, slightly short of breath, and he closes his mouth over taemin’s entrance to kiss it, wet and messy; it makes taemin’s back arch further as he pushes his ass up, his legs falling open wider. jongin gives taemin’s ass a light slap, and taemin makes a startled little throaty noise, fingers ending up tangling loosely in his own hair at the lack of anything else to occupy his hands with.

“more,” taemin says quietly, his tone near pleading but not quite. “i want --”

"my tongue in your ass?” jongin finishes for him, and taemin buries his face in the cushion. “yes,” he breathes, and jongin fits his palms over the cheeks of taemin’s ass, carefully parting them to rub his thumb in slow circles over taemin’s entrance. “please,” taemin adds, unsure if that’s what jongin is waiting for or not, but jongin seems satisfied, because he holds taemin open with his thumbs, then leans back in once more to lick between them -- slow strokes with his tongue across the tiny pink hole, and when he finally pushes enough for it to slip inside he almost gets a full-body shudder from taemin.

“j-jongin,” taemin whines, high in his throat, and jongin kisses open-mouthedly between his cheeks, tongue dipping inside taemin repeatedly and only curling back into his mouth as he presses his face closer, yanking taemin back against him by the hips to reach deeper, and taemin is wriggling them slightly, panting into his forearm and nearly whimpering, feeling himself flush hot all the way from his neck to the burning tops of his cheeks. the sweet noises taemin makes go straight to jongin’s cock, hanging heavy between his legs -- he doesn’t really need anything more to urge him on than the knowledge that this, having jongin eat him out, always gets taemin incredibly worked up, but it’s as amazing to watch as always, what he’s capable of doing to taemin just by licking into his ass. he works taemin wet and open with deep, lingering flicks of his tongue, and taemin’s hips writhe, seemingly indecisive about whether to shy away from jongin’s mouth or push back into it.

when jongin licks particularly deep into him he mewls again, louder this time, twisting and pressing down into the couch as his hole clamps down on his tongue, and he’s quick to turn his face to stifle any other sounds into the cushion. precome leaks from his cock, leaving a sticky stain on the material beneath him when he happens to rub himself against it, and it doesn’t take all that long before he’s starting to squirm, impatient and needy, chewing at his bottom lip until it really becomes too much and hard for him to stay still any longer. “ _jongin_ ,” he says, finally, lifting his head so his voice isn’t muffled, and jongin glances up at him, hands sliding from taemin’s hips down his thighs.

he doesn’t have to say anything for jongin to know what it is he wants; jongin gives a last few short licks before he slowly withdraws his tongue from taemin’s ass, bringing his right hand up to his mouth to coat the tips of his fingers with spit, then puts one of them to taemin’s entrance instead. he’s slick but still so tight under jongin’s fingertip, and he strokes between taemin’s cheeks to make sure taemin knows what he’s about to do, then rubs and pushes gently until the muscles begin to give -- initially taemin clenches around jongin’s dry finger, resisting just a bit, but he’s just stretched and wet enough from jongin’s tongue that jongin can work it inside with ease after that. taemin swallows a noise when it slides inside him all the way to the second knuckle, then props himself up on his forearms, shakily moaning as jongin pulls his finger out halfway and pushes it in deep.

he wraps an arm around taemin’s body, pulling him up onto his knees, then leans down over him to kiss his shoulder. taemin’s head drops forward slightly, and jongin turns his wrist to cup taemin’s ass in his hand, fucking his finger into him in short, firm pushes until he’s stretched him enough to carefully work his middle finger in alongside his index. spit makes for poor lube, and with only that to help it along it’s difficult for jongin to move his fingers much, but after careful twisting and shallow slow strokes taemin loosens up more and he can slide them out and back into him with a lot less resistance.

he can’t quite reach taemin’s prostate like this, but taemin really doesn’t seem to mind; he’s spreading his legs just as wide, panting quietly and tilting his hips to open himself up for jongin’s fingers regardless. the heel of jongin’s palm nudges against him with each push of them inside, and jongin places kisses between taemin’s shoulder blades, down the dip of his back and his spine. “fuck yourself on my fingers,” he tells taemin, voice turning thick from arousal, and taemin moans, doesn’t protest -- he rocks back against jongin’s hand, a whine building in his throat when jongin curls his fingers a little and his knuckles happen to catch on his hole, and jongin chuckles somewhat breathlessly, his knees knocking taemin’s wider apart as he shifts. the denim of jongin’s jeans is a bit rough against taemin’s skin where their legs touch, a bad kind of distracting unlike pleasant skin to skin contact, and taemin pulls an unhappy face at this.

“take your jeans off.” he cranes his neck to see jongin over his shoulder, and jongin considers just making quick work out of ridding himself of them, but instead he ends up withdrawing and sliding his fingers out of taemin -- taemin’s entrance is still visibly slick and now reddened from the push and pull of jongin’s fingers, and he twitches at a fleeting touch of jongin’s fingertips. the small of his back receives a light kiss before jongin sits up, dragging a palm down the curve of taemin’s ass and moving to stand.

“stay put,” jongin says, shedding his jeans, kicking them aside once they drop to his feet. taemin puts his cheek to the cushion again, waiting impatiently, but doesn’t question this when jongin walks naked to the doorway to his bedroom -- whether the good eyeful he gets of jongin’s tan skin, broad back, nice round ass and toned thighs is a treat or only serves to make him even less patient he can’t tell, and he’s still trying to figure it out when jongin returns to him on the couch with the bottle of lubricant grabbed from his bedside drawer.

taemin hears him pop the cap on the bottle open, and his breathing is still a little uneven when jongin presses his larger body against his back, heavy even though he’s supporting his own weight. slippery and slightly cool fingers are brought down to slick up his entrance, though jongin is seemingly hardly in much of a hurry -- they just barely slip in to teasingly stretch, and taemin resists actually pushing himself back onto them, settling instead for just a frustrated little wiggle against jongin’s hand.

“don’t tease,” taemin says, trying to keep at least some of the neediness out of his voice, but he doubts he’s all that successful when he can _feel_  jongin grin against the top of his spine, as well as hear it when he speaks.

“tell me what you want, babe,” jongin says, twisting his fingers and parting them to hold taemin open, feeling the muscles resist before relaxing. “i won’t know if you don’t tell me.”

of course he knows, just as well as taemin knows that he won’t get it this easily, that jongin will want him to work for it. taemin presses his lips together to hold back a moan, brow furrowing, tensing up beneath jongin as his fingers prod and push, and this is hands down one of jongin’s very favorite parts -- coaxing dirty words from taemin’s mouth once he’s too turned on to care, aroused enough to forget to be embarrassed. he always begs prettily when jongin wants him to.

“i want you inside me,” taemin says, swallowing, and jongin’s fingers still, then turn inside him, sliding in from a new angle that almost makes taemin’s toes curl.

“yeah?” jongin’s exhale tickles the back of taemin’s neck, his lips brushing over the skin there before his tongue slips out to wet them, and taemin can feel his dick pressing hot against his thigh, then the backs of jongin’s fingers when they wrap around it. they leave a small smear of lube on the inside of his thigh, and jongin wipes it off with a warm palm upon noticing. the bottle is quietly snapped shut and jongin reaches to set it down on the table, and once he lowers himself back down on top of him, his broad chest flush to his back, taemin can hear his breath hitch as he strokes himself.

“your cock,” taemin’s own breath stutters as jongin’s fingers slip out of him once more, leaving him empty, clenching down on nothing. “please, your cock in my ass, just -- put it in me, i want it.”

jongin’s cock throbs in his fist -- fuck, taemin sounds so hot when he gets like this, perfectly filthy -- but he still doesn’t cave.

“how much do you want it?” he asks, nudging the slick head of it between taemin’s cheeks, rubbing it across his entrance slowly, and taemin rolls his hips up against it, though that achieves nothing -- jongin doesn’t push inside, just gives a slight grind against his ass, and taemin feels hot all over, needy in a way only jongin can make him.

“badly,” taemin whines, squirming, rubbing himself against jongin’s cock as though to get him inside, and jongin relishes in how desperate he sounds, taemin’s sweet soft voice almost cracking. “i need it, need you, jongin, please -- just fuck me.”

“there we go.” jongin’s hand curls around taemin’s hipbone, holding him still as he shifts forward and lines himself up, trying to steady his breathing. he’s gotten him relaxed and wet enough, but taemin’s hole is small and tight against the blunt head of his cock anyway and jongin has to push firmly before it sinks in -- it’s a slow slide, the rest of his cock pushing inside taemin’s ass and stretching him further than just his fingers could, and taemin’s mouth hangs open in a silent moan as jongin fills him, though a low noise close to a whimper escapes his throat. he shakes a little under jongin as he tries to adjust and open himself for him, and jongin curves an arm around taemin, holding him up.

“so good, baby,” he says against the shell of taemin’s ear, voice low, and a second push of his hips has him buried in taemin to the hilt. taemin moans at the feeling, jongin’s cock all the way inside, warm and thick -- he’s already incredibly tight, enough to have jongin short of breath all over again, yet he tightens up around him further by deliberately clenching his muscles. it gets him a quiet groan from jongin, and he rests his forearm along taemin’s side, pressing taemin against his body with the other as he pulls out a couple of inches, then sinks back inside.

his movements are shallow at first, just rocking into taemin short but deep, and it has taemin squirming on his cock and panting, letting his knees slide wider apart. taemin hugs his dick perfectly, taking every inch of him like jongin belongs like this, inside him, and jongin breathes out slowly, putting his lips to the top bone of taemin’s spine and trailing his fingers down his side as his hips start picking up a steady rhythm.

“jongin,” taemin chokes out breathily, feeling the drag of his cock inside him with each slow, deep thrust, and few things are prettier to jongin than the way taemin says his name when he’s fucking him -- shakily when his thrusts are slower, then high in his throat, near whimpers when he speeds up and gets rougher with him, and jongin fully intends to pull both kinds from him. his pace quickens slightly, a few faster thrusts that elicit a series of quiet whines from taemin, and jongin grins slowly in satisfaction, putting more of his weight behind the shove of his hips as he works his cock into taemin’s body.

“you take my cock so well,” jongin tells him, his hips slapping against taemin’s ass, the sound of skin hitting skin just barely audible over taemin’s soft little moans and jongin’s breaths, and taemin pushes back against him, giving a high _mmmh_  in response. his brows are furrowed, full lips parted as he pants and fingers curling tight in the cushion’s cover, and jongin pulls out a tad further than before, then slams back in more firmly, breaking off each thrust with a grind that has his balls pressing against taemin’s ass -- taemin can’t help but wiggle back into it, and when jongin really begins to fuck into him in earnest, getting progressively rougher and shifting to push in from a better angle, taemin puts his hand to his mouth to keep from _keening_.

“you like that?” jongin mouths at the back of taemin’s neck, and taemin nods, trying to tilt his hips so jongin can reach deeper, if even possible -- he doubts it, but the only thing taemin really knows for sure that he wants is _more_ , so he can’t quite bring himself to care if the effort is useless. jongin rewards him with a slap to his ass, then smooths over the skin with his palm, and taemin moans, slowly letting his arms give out and knees buckle so he can slide down to lie on his stomach. jongin slips his arm out from underneath taemin, letting go of his waist to instead grip the back of the couch; he’s holding onto it half for leverage and half to take some more of his weight off taemin for now, and his every ragged exhale is punctuated by a snap of his hips forward, driving his cock into taemin at a pace that’s almost harsh, just the way he knows taemin wants it. if he hadn’t already been well aware, the way taemin grows increasingly louder should be an indication by itself, but he muffles most if not all noises with his wrist or the back of his hand.

“don’t do that, babe.” jongin reaches to pull taemin’s hand from his mouth, and taemin resists initially, but then lets jongin pin it to the arm of the couch. to make sure he can’t simply use the cushion instead (jongin is decently sure that’s why he let him take his hand away so easily) he tugs it out from underneath taemin as well, knocking it to the floor, and taemin protests, only going quiet about it when jongin’s cock slides across his prostate and sends a jolt of pleasure through him, something that has him mewling and clamping down tight around his length. “f-fuck, jongin.”

“that’s better,” jongin says, leaning down to lower himself on top of taemin again, pressing himself against his back once more and rolling his hips forward hard, his thrusts gradually speeding up until every other one pulls a small little _ah_  noise from taemin’s mouth. they’re sounds he tries to stifle but gives up on fairly quickly, and his legs fall open wider, nearly going boneless beneath jongin -- jongin’s thicker, muscular thighs keep taemin’s own spread, and he’s trapping taemin against the couch with his larger body, heavy and warm on top of him as he moves inside him, and taemin nearly whimpers at this alone. he feels so small like this, almost like he’s completely surrounded by nothing but jongin and he lets himself revel in it, wouldn’t pretend he doesn’t love that, because nothing matters to taemin when he’s with jongin except him. he moves back as well as he can against jongin when he’s held in place, and jongin’s brows knit in concentration, pressing his lips together as he moans, a noise that’s pulled from deep in his chest and fades into a heavy exhale.

taemin hears jongin’s teeth chatter as he shudders, and he holds him down with his weight, pressing both his wrists to the arm of the sofa as he really starts to pound him. taemin cries out, voice quivering as he says jongin’s name, and even if taemin wanted to move he wouldn’t have been able to -- he can’t do much more than grind back into jongin’s thrusts, take what jongin is giving, and from this angle the stimulation against his prostate is almost relentless just like the friction against his cock, rubbing against the leather as jongin fucks him into the couch. the force of jongin’s thrusts has him sliding forward just a little, causing him to lean more of his weight on him to keep him still, and taemin’s fingers clench into loose fists where jongin is pinning his hands down.

“god, you’re mine,” jongin breathes, shaky as his hips pump into taemin, and taemin curls his toes, bottom lip bitten pink, and chokes out, “ _yours_.”

sweat collects along jongin’s hairline, a drop of it rolling down his temple, and soft damp hairs from jongin’s bangs tickle taemin’s neck as jongin tips his face down, panting heavily. his hips don’t slow, but they stutter occasionally despite jongin’s determination, his thrusts turning less and less steady as heat pools in his gut -- pressure is building quickly in his balls, something he ignores at first and comes to regret once he realizes he’s suddenly alarmingly close, and that familiar tightening of his abdomen startles him halfway inside taemin into going still, hips coming to a near sharp halt as he bites down on his tongue. he refuses to come yet, far earlier than he wants to; his pulse races, the muscles in his legs tremble when he shifts, and taemin grunts softly, but thankfully he doesn’t move, just turns his head a little as jongin tries to calm his breathing and carefully kisses taemin’s shoulder.

when his heart isn’t beating quite as fast and he’s sure he won’t be pushed over the edge by the slightest movement, jongin swallows to collect himself, releases his grip on taemin’s wrists and braces both his arms on the couch to start moving again, but taemin shakes his head, wiggling restlessly, causing jongin to pause.

"wait," taemin says, licking his lips, exhaling hotly. "let me turn around."

jongin takes a slow breath and eases his cock out of taemin, watching it slip free, and taemin scrambles to push himself up, met halfway by jongin who presses their bodies together when he’s turned over. he kisses him deep but with an urgent sloppiness as he slides down on the couch with his legs on each side of jongin, and jongin grabs at his hip and waist, then cups his neck, fingers curling into his hair.

“i’ve got you,” jongin says, pulling taemin closer and placing his other hand under taemin’s knee, and taemin’s arms wrap around jongin’s neck as jongin pushes his skinny leg up, hitching it up over the crook of his elbow and leaning down over him, bringing it with him as he does. his hips inch forward, and taemin is open enough that the tip of his cock can slip in easily, breaching him with almost no effort, and jongin shoves his length past and enters him again in one swift thrust.

taemin cries out against jongin’s lips, and when jongin dips his head down to kiss and suck at his neck, taemin’s falls back against the couch, his messy hair falling out of his face and sprawling over the leather. the rhythm jongin sets is still quick without being as vicious as before, hips snapping forward firm and fast but not quite as hard, and taemin’s eyes flutter closed, then squeeze shut as jongin leans in closer to him, bending him further at the waist and his cock hits his prostate almost dead-on. the head of it brushes over it on each stroke, and taemin presses his short blunt nails into jongin’s shoulders, his moans turning more into hiccups.

“taeminnie,” jongin pants, and he sits up slightly to lift taemin’s leg higher, heel of his sock-clad foot resting on his shoulder. it allows him to get even deeper into taemin, burying himself inside him completely with each thrust, and taemin’s hands turn desperately grabby as his arms drop from around his neck, gripping jongin’s biceps tight, fingertips digging in. “ _fuck_ ,” taemin whines, writhing slowly, bucking into jongin’s thrusts, and jongin watches his brows knit and jaw drop when he pushes in particularly hard, dark pink mouth hanging open and cheeks flushed, and he’s so fucking gorgeous and distracting that jongin’s hips almost fall out of rhythm. hovering over taemin lets him watch his cock disappear into taemin’s lithe body over and over, and he reaches down to touch where taemin is stretched around him, the skin red and oversensitive.

“i love you, fuck,” jongin says, “you're breathtaking, you know that? you're _perfect_.” he exhales heavily, and taemin’s eyes open, flicking up to meet jongin’s, pupils blown from arousal and gaze heavy. he sucks his lip into his mouth, gnawing at it, and his moans become hitchy little whimpers until he lets it slip back out and his head rolls to the side, grip tightening further on jongin’s arms. jongin can’t help but lean back down, mouthing at his jaw, and taemin’s leg slips down from his shoulder, caught by jongin’s forearm.

jongin quickens his pace, fucking into taemin fast and deep, chasing his own once more approaching climax as much as he’s trying to bring out taemin’s, welcoming it this time, and taemin grabs at jongin’s shoulders to pull him in closer, both legs lowering to drape over his hips instead. taemin’s own are too narrow, and having his legs held spread by jongin’s hips makes his inner thighs ache, but he doesn’t mind, doesn’t care, just wraps them around his waist to hang onto him tightly. jongin throws almost all his weight into his thrusts, becoming near erratic at this point, and taemin hiccups quietly into his shoulder, burying his face there and clinging to his neck. “i c-can’t --”

“don’t stop,” taemin’s voice cracks, legs hugging jongin’s waist tighter and ankles locking behind his back. “i-i’m gonna come.”

“yeah?” jongin breathes against his ear, and fuck, _fuck_ , taemin’s words are almost sufficient to push him to the brink on their own, he feels ready to come right then, his balls so heavy he can barely think straight enough to speak, but he keeps pounding into taemin, near exhausted but filled with just enough dedication to keep going, to bring taemin to the edge and over it. “come for me, babe,” he says, voice rough. “around me, gripping my dick so fucking good. c’mon -- come just from my cock in your ass.”

taemin’s hips jerk as his orgasm washes over him, mouth falling open in a silent cry, a loud, high-pitched whine welling up his throat instead. he spills all over his own stomach between their bodies, as well as jongin’s, sticky on sweaty skin, and his muscles clench around jongin so tight jongin can barely keep moving -- the expression on taemin’s face softens from almost pained as his arms fall to his sides, and his body shudders against jongin, clamping down repeatedly on his length as jongin fucks him through it and jongin groans out loud. it’s from the sensation, how fucking close he is (he can’t last, fuck fuck _fuck_ ) and how beautiful taemin is all at once, how amazing he feels when he comes around him, and it’s almost as though he enjoys taemin’s orgasms as much as he does his own.

he hisses, moaning, and he’s about to fucking blow with the way taemin’s muscles are squeezing him, teetering on the edge so jongin makes himself pull out of taemin before he can start to come. taemin winces just a little, legs dropping to the couch, sore and aching, and jongin is breathing hard as he shuffles forward to lean over taemin, one hand on the back of the sofa and the other gripping his dick -- taemin watches, initial confusion giving way for a rush of heat, a mix of both embarrassment and arousal at the realization of what jongin is doing. he gets down on one knee over taemin’s chest as he jerks himself fast, but it only really takes a couple strokes before it hits him and his hips shake with his release; he comes in thick spurts all over taemin’s collarbones and neck, some of it splattering on his chin and his cheek, and taemin makes a soft noise as he feels it, hot and sticky on his skin. jongin groans under his breath as he strokes himself dry, steadying himself by grabbing the arm of the couch behind taemin’s head instead, and taemin lets him shift forward as he milks his cock of the last of his come so it can drip onto his face.

jongin shivers, his posture going slightly slack above taemin, and he’s still watching taemin’s face as he slowly lets go of his cock. he moves somewhat unsteadily off of taemin to settle between his spread knees again, and he sits back with a ragged breath, then runs a hand through his sweaty hair and blinks to clear his eyes, his contacts beginning to dry out. taemin lifts his head a bit to be able to see the come on his chest, but lets it fall back against the sofa without touching it, just drapes his leg over jongin’s.

“are you going to clean me up?” taemin asks, eyeing jongin with his limbs sprawled tiredly over the couch, but jongin makes no move to get up and find tissues or a washcloth -- instead he reaches over to run his fingers through the mess on taemin’s chest, brushes his thumb over his cheek to smear a stain there, just says, “you look pretty like this.”

_all mine_ , he doesn’t say, but taemin hears it in his tone regardless. he brings his hand up to taemin’s mouth, and taemin bats at his arm in an attempt to swat it away and gives jongin’s thigh a light kick with his foot, turning his face and huffing in protest, but when jongin grabs onto his jaw and presses his sticky fingers to the seam of his lips he opens for him, starting to lick it up, sucking at them obediently to clean them off.


End file.
